


But My Darling, What If

by Ornament_of_Rhyme



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989), Polar Express - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Characters Are Younger Than Canon, Christmas, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 21:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17169398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ornament_of_Rhyme/pseuds/Ornament_of_Rhyme
Summary: He is on the way to see Santa Claus.TheSanta Claus! Yet Neil's too busy fretting over the boy stuck in the caboose to care.





	But My Darling, What If

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gottabemoregottadomore on tumblr](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=gottabemoregottadomore+on+tumblr).



> Merry Christmas! Jolly Boxing Day! Yes, this is late—as I type this it is 2:25am PST on the 26th. But it's here, and considering I started this on Christmas Eve and only wrote it throughout Christmas Day between family interactions, I think I did pretty well!
> 
> NOTE: This story is a fusion between Dead Poets Society and The Polar Express. That said, it's not supposed to follow the plot of Polar Express, per se, but does, in my mind, take place during a different Christmas than the one in the film. Hope that makes sense.
> 
> Mary, this is for you. Happy Christmas.

He couldn't stop thinking about the blond boy.

 

The two kids who were on board before Neil, Steve and Gerard, were practically finishing each other's sentences in the seat ahead, excited about some atomic lab set they were both dying to find under their trees in the morning. Meanwhile, Neil's own seat partner, Charlie, bickered with the redhead across the aisle. It seemed everyone in the car had made friends, actually—or at least thought they did, if the way the redhead seemed oblivious to Charlie's genuine irritation was any indication.

 

And even with all that buzz and bother, Neil could only think of the blond boy running after the train—the thread of his green satin pajamas shimmering under the light pouring from the train cars; the whip of the wind and snow against his small frame; the shift in his expression as the train picked up speed, gone from wary to terrified of being left behind in an instant.

 

Under the cheers of the other kids, the boy had made it to the juncture between their car and the caboose, but a lurch in the train's movement seemed to scare him into the nearest door—the wrong one—leaving him alone in the last car. After a few clucks of disappointment, everyone had returned to their seats. They picked up right where they left off, forgetting the boy just like that.

 

Neil sat down, too, but he couldn't forget. It troubled him too much. Everyone else got to have fun and make friends, so why not that boy? No one should be alone on Christmas!

 

This conclusion set his heart thumping and his stomach churning as his mind began pulling him in two directions. It was then that the conductor appeared again. Over the unnecessary loudspeaker, he asked if anyone was thirsty, to which the whole car, Neil included, threw up their hands.

 

The subsequent spectacle of tap dancing waiters, porcelain teacups tossed like toys, and magical tables made manifest by aprons alone was enough to steal Neil's attention away from the boy for a minute. However, when the adults departed, leaving the children to sip happily at their cups of piping hot cocoa, he wondered: did the boy get any cocoa?

 

With a sudden and sharp need to know, Neil set his cup and saucer aside on the seat and slipped past Charlie, who was too busy fanning his burnt taste buds to notice. Neil strode to the door at the back and looked through the snowfall into the caboose.

 

There was the boy, curled up on a seat in the light of only a few dim lamps. His legs were pulled up to his chest, and his face was buried behind his knees.

 

That sight settled Neil's stomach. It slowed the rapid pounding of his heart. Not because it pacified him, but because it made up his mind. He looked over his shoulder to ensure the conductor hadn't returned, then tugged the door open, exposing himself fully to the battering wind and thunderous clatter-clash of metal on metal. Between the cars was the frightening gap, bridged only by an icy hitch. He squinted against the flurries to watch with trepidation as the railroad blurred beneath the speeding locomotive.

 

The hammering of his heart returned with a vengeance, but when Neil looked back up and saw the boy again, folded up just as before, he decided he couldn't turn back. Not without that boy in tow.

 

Neil turned his eyes away from the tracks and the wiggly hitch, focusing solely on the doorstep of the caboose. He told himself to take the leap, and next he knew he was clutching onto a frigid door handle. Heady relief washed over him, both buoyant and tiring at once.

 

Neil wasted no more time on the platform. He threw the door open and hurriedly latched it shut behind him. When he turned around, the blond boy had already unfurled from his position.

 

“W-why did you do that?” the boy asked, wide eyed.

 

Neil shrugged. “I came to get you.” His legs were trembling faintly, so he took a seat beside the boy.

 

The boy gaped. “'Get me?'” Realization and horror dawned as he looked to the door Neil had come through. “N-no. No. I don't want to go out there. I'll fall!”

 

“It's not so bad,” Neil tried. “I made it across just fine.”

 

“No.” The boy shook his head, and his gaze dropped to the floor. “I can't do that.”

 

A silence fell over them as Neil sought a way to convince him, but answers were elusive.

 

Instead, he said, “I'm Neil.”

 

This, at least, had the boy tilting his head slightly in Neil's direction, though he still didn't look at him. It struck Neil as more of a habit of shyness, rather than a dismissive gesture.

 

“Todd,” came the quiet reply.

 

Neil couldn't help but smile. He was certain it was shyness.

 

“Don't you want to come join the rest of us?” he tried again.

 

Todd's frown deepened, and he seemed torn, but ultimately said, “I'm not... that interesting. I'd probably just sit on my own anyway.”

 

“Couldn't I sit with you?”

 

This time Todd looked at him, but turned his head away as soon as their eyes connected. “Why do you care so much?”

 

“No one should be alone on Christmas,” said Neil. He couldn't help but feel bad for Todd. His sense of loneliness seemed to run deep.

 

“And, y'know,” Neil began, finding another incentive, “they gave out hot chocolate. It's the best thing I've ever tasted! And that's including my mom's peach cobbler!”

 

His enthusiasm coaxed a slight chuckle from Todd, which Neil was immensely proud of. Unfortunately, he discovered a flaw in his plan. “...But the waiters already left...”

 

Todd's lips twisted, at once unsurprised and disappointed. Neil decidedly did not like that expression.

 

“But you can share with me,” he said. “They're huge cups, too.”

 

"No... I don't want to take it from you."

 

"Like I said, we'll share." Neil's reasoning didn't move the other boy, so he added, "Think of it as my Christmas gift to you."

 

Todd's baffled gaze finally met his straight on. "What? But—but I'm just some stranger."

 

Neil shrugged again, wearing a big smile. The other boy was stubborn in his loneliness, but Neil could see his resolve buckling.

 

Finally, Todd murmured, "Okay." Neil perked up, but only a second later Todd was worrying again. "But what if— What if I slip when we cross over? I'll fall under the train and—!"

 

"Todd." The sound of his name abruptly snared the boy's attention. Neil assured, "I'll be right there. I'll make sure you don't fall."

 

"What if I pull you down with me?"

 

"Well, what if I pull you back up?"

 

For a pin-drop moment, he looked between Neil and the door. Then, “I'll try not to make us fall.”

 

Neil beamed, which seemed to catch the boy off-guard. “Come on! You've got to meet Charlie; he's a crack up.”

 

This time crossing the gap, Neil had more to worry about, but also more experience. Despite his fear, he put on a brave face for Todd and jumped, smacking against the door on the other side just as swiftly and smoothly as before. Todd, however, was paralyzed, with wide eyes focused on the streaming, dark colors of the tracks and ties.

 

“TODD!” Neil called over the ear-splitting clamor. The boy once more responded to his name by looking up, and Neil beckoned for him. “IT'LL BE OVER QUICK.”

 

He wasn't sure that his words did the trick, but finally, even without losing an ounce of fear, Todd lept.

 

They collided into the door, clinging together desperately. Neil untangled himself enough to grab Todd's wrist in one hand and the door handle in the other, then shoved it open and heaved them inside. They fell to the floor, perhaps harder than necessary, but scarcely noticed anything past their bone-deep relief.

 

Feeling the wash of adrenalin again, Neil rolled over to face Todd. “See? Leap, and the net will appear.”

 

Todd laughed through his panting. “You make a good net.”

**Author's Note:**

> Admittedly, those last two lines are for me. Somewhere along the line this fic started to apply to my current life problems.
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading. I hope you found some warmth in it.


End file.
